Recovering
by eMu3
Summary: Yohji gets injured as a result of Schuldig's carelessness. This close to the Summoning, the Schwarz have a vested interest in a healthy and functioning Weiss, so this proves...problematic. It's rated high for a reason folks: implied non-con, trauma
1. Chapter 1

_Italics = telepathy_

**Chapter One:**

Yohji knew he was being unforgivably stupid when he followed Schuldig out to the parking lot, but then he'd survived the last six times so there was that to consider too. Besides, at the moment he was horny enough not to be in the least bit bothered by nagging thoughts of self preservation and team loyalty. Schuldig was a good lay. He knew this from the last six times and he also knew that their trysts had nothing to do with the Weiss vs. Schwarz dynamic, and that Schwarz wasn't nearly as evil as Kritiker would have them think. So he told that little nagging voice that sounded something like Aya to shut it and to quit ruining his fun.

"Your internal debate was interesting the first couple of times Kitten, but it's gotten stale. We both know how this is going to end," Schuldig said around a smirk. His bangs, always in his way no matter what elastic, headband or bandanna he attempted to hold them back with, fell into his eyes while he unlocked his car. He pushed them back with one hand, replacing his keys and opening the door with the other, and immediately they were back in his face again.

_No point_, Yohji thought at him when Schuldig went to shove them aside again. _First thing I'm going for is that damned elastic._ He liked Schuldig's hair quite a bit, and thought it looked much better framing his face and falling around his upper body. The messy ponytail was cute though.

Schuldig rolled his eyes, never missing an opportunity to mock Yohji's sentimental thoughts, even if he didn't always comment vocally. He motioned for Yohji to get in the car first, so Yohji complied. He'd been sitting for less than a heartbeat before Schuldig was in his lap, kissing him breathless and moving just…_perfectly_.

Yes, he was an idiot, but he was going to have amazing orgasms regardless while his less-stupid teammates, who never slept with enemies, were using their precious downtime to watch TV, catch up on homework and read.

_Stop thinking about your teammates or I'm leaving_, Schuldig snapped, insulted.

_Bullshit. You want this too_. Yohji squeezed the front of Schuldig's jeans for evidence.

_You're not the only…person on the…planet willing to sleep with me you know._ Schuldig's mental voice sounded breathy enough to match the panting and moaning of his actual voice, making his threat to leave a lot less believable.

_I'm more exciting than them, otherwise you wouldn't be here._ The rival teams thing was one hell of a turn on for their mutual sense of danger. Schuldig in particular seemed to have a kink for doing the complete and utter opposite of what he should have, while Yohji was attracted despite his better sense and tended to feel guilty about it later on. Not that he believed for a minute that sleeping with Schuldig somehow negatively impacted the Weiss, he just knew what it would look like if he were caught.

Yohji licked his lips before assaulting his partner's sensitive neck, a weakness he'd been very glad to discover during tryst number three. Apparently the hickeys from tryst number four had gotten Schuldig chewed out by his team leader, something he was annoyed with and Yohji had found funny.

He'd found it a lot less funny when, to punish Yohji for his lack of sympathy, Schuldig had somehow set up user accounts for Yohji on all matter of embarrassing porn sites and crashed the Weiss' mission computer with them. So now the other Weiss believed him to not only be bisexual but also twisted with his kinks, and the more he denied the sites were from him the more convinced the others seemed to get. Not that he'd ever intended to come out to his teammates in the first place, but if he had he could think of many much better ways to do it.

Schuldig's hips ground against Yohji's lap with enough excited force to make it difficult to leave the hickeys he wanted, or to plot much else. He was going to cum in his pants if this kept up. Picking up on that particular thought, Schuldig shifted so that he could pop Yohji's fly and get a hand down his pants.

"Condom?" Schuldig breathed against his ear.

"Nn…you don't have one?" Yohji moaned. He actually hadn't been planning on sex that night for some reason that was beyond his grasp with the sexy redhead doing naughty things on his lap at the moment. Schuldig barged into his life often enough out of nowhere, he would have to keep emergency condoms on him in the future.

"Damn straight," Schuldig snapped.

"You don't have one either?" Yohji asked.

"You're the slut, I expected you would."

"I'm not a slut!"

"I beg to differ." Schuldig had stopped moving. He folded his arms across his chest, annoyed. "You're enough of a slut that I'm not risking an STD."

Yohji felt stung, for some reason. "I'm clean."

"Yeah, and how many partners have you had between tests?" Schuldig asked.

He had to stop to think and Schuldig considered his point proven.

"So what, we're just gonna stop?" Yohji asked.

"See, that's why I've never once felt a burning sensation when I pee and why it happens to you all the time."  
>"Fuck off, I don't have any STDs!" Yohji exclaimed.<p>

Schuldig sighed. He certainly didn't want to stop, but he also didn't want to deal with an Esset ordered physical if he did catch something from Kudoh. Marks like that on your record left a certain reputation during Rosenkreuz reviews one would rather avoid.

"Well if it bothers you that much we could go get one. We are in a car. Hell we could be really classy and even go somewhere else and have sex in a bed," Yohji suggested with a teasing grin. He trailed his long fingered hands up and down Schuldig's sides, caressing him under his t-shirt and sending pleasant shivers down his spine. The conveni wasn't that far away, and it would be so worth it, their sex was always hot.

He made a small noise that was inarticulate assent. Yohji leaned in for what was supposed to be a quick peck before driving off to their destination, but ended with Schuldig full on his lap again and the two assassins kissing, groping, moaning and coming very close to forgetting about the condom problem.

* * *

><p>At first neither of them noticed the tapping on the window, but Schuldig was too experienced to have his guard drop quite that much, no matter how pretty and distracting Yohji was. He looked up and his stomach clenched as he took in at least four faces, maybe more, pressed up against the car leering at him and Yohji. Fear followed, a familiar sort he hadn't felt since his adolescence, the last time he'd been faced with this sort of a situation.<p>

Kudoh was confused, and Schuldig couldn't blame him. To the Weiss the men looked like run of the mill street punk perverts. But Schuldig recognized a couple of them and he recognized the signature in their mental shielding. It was a Rosenkreuz trained team and he was severely outnumbered.

All this processing happened in seconds; then the door was opened and Yohji and Schuldig were pulled out. Six full grown and trained psychic thugs to his one well trained self and a very pretty piece of dead weight. Schuldig couldn't outfight all of them, that was ludicrous. But he could run.

Panic drove him as he assaulted the one who held him. Before the others could react he was off and running, moving faster than the thugs could ever hope to match. For some reason superhuman speed accompanied his telepathy, possibly nature compensating him for his slender physique, although by that logic Nagi should have been able to move like lightning.

He felt bad for leaving Kudoh behind. He was too pretty for them to just let him go, even though Schuldig was obviously their mark. But there was no way in hell he was ever going through that again. He'd left rape behind when he'd left Rosenkreuz for Esset and he was never going back.

* * *

><p><em>AN: This fic is a bit of a departure for me in many ways, so I'm particularly interested in feedback. (Well, I'm always interested in feedback, but I'm trying different things in this one and Dido, so those are my biggies). Thanks in advance for any reviews :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

At first Brad Crawford was well and truly pissed at his team telepath, to the point that he was repeating reasons why Schuldig was useful like a mantra when he set out to find him after the vision informed him how the night would progress. He'd told Schuldig to stay in, promised him he'd regret it if he spent his free night out of the apartment. But no, obviously it made no sense to listen to a precog's warnings. Brad was probably just talking for the sheer joy of hearing his own voice.

When he actually found Schuldig he was a lot less angry. The normally infuriatingly defiant young man was crouched on the side of the road hugging himself and thus keeping his ripped t-shirt in place. He'd been roughed up a little, but not enough considering the intentions of his assailants. Farfarello helped him into the backseat of the car and Brad drove on without saying anything.

"Aren't we going home?" Nagi asked. They were headed in the wrong direction.

"I didn't bring the two of you along just to pick Schuldig up," Brad explained. "There's a disagreement going on between Rosenkreuz and Esset at the moment. The Organization and the School are dependent upon one another but you've seen how they've clashed over insignificant posturing more than once in the past. We've been caught in the middle and there's a team of Rosen in town who wish us harm."

"There are six of them," Schuldig whispered.

"And the four of us are more than a match," Brad asserted. No one said it, but Farfarello and Nagi were clearly doubting whether Brad had taken Schuldig's distraught state into account.

He sighed. "The group of Rosen we're after specifically planned to target us one at a time using numbers against us because they are cowards and they know they can't take us at full strength. Besides, we can't let them kill Kudoh. We still need the Weiss if we want to keep our mutiny on schedule."

The car was silent for the remainder of the ride, which was only another few minutes. Schuldig mentally prepared himself for what was coming, knowing that even with his level of selfishness and general evil he'd be bothered by what he'd left Yohji to.

They found the Rosen in an alleyway not far from where Schuldig's car was parked. Yohji was bruised and bleeding, but it looked like they were still in the early stages of their 'fun'. Whether he'd been raped or not would have to be determined later. While he was killing the assholes responsible, Schuldig acted as though they had, just in case.

* * *

><p>Yohji woke up in a hell of a lot of pain, which was not something he'd expected out of his one night off that month. The Weiss had been working almost non-stop since Aya's sister had gone missing and the conflict with Schrient had stepped up. Everyone agreed they'd needed a night to themselves, to blow off steam and keep focused for what was coming.<p>

It was really hard to focus when even places he'd never given much thought to were hurting.

Someone was moaning, which further irritated his headache. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and even the dim lighting in the room ratcheted up the intensity of the headache ever so much more, but he wanted to know who was making the noise so he could tell them to stop. He felt pathetic when he realized it was him.

There was a light knock to the door of what Yohji realized was an unfamiliar bedroom. The furnishings were all western style, and any and all surfaces in the room were cluttered with books and papers. He was sure he'd never been there before, and couldn't guess as to where he was.

He attempted to sit up, his body protested and he fell back against the pillows with another noise of pain. He heard footsteps, presumably those of the knocker, and then the Oracle came into view as he peered down at Yohji. Brad Crawford was the only person Yohji had met in his adult life who was taller than he was, and whereas normally that wasn't high on the list of things that troubled him about the 'enemy' assassin, while being flooded with memories of what had happened in the alleyway it was nerve wracking.

"I've got some pain meds for you if you'd like, and some antibiotics you'll have to take regardless. I do think it's best if we have a conversation while you're relatively lucid as opposed to drugged and groggy though," Crawford said stiffly.

"Kay."

Crawford sat down, for which Yohji was thankful. The pillows were fluffed enough that he could still see him if he wanted to. While feeling exceptionally vulnerable and humiliated, however, he decidedly did not want to look at Schwarz's leader.

"First off you have my apologies for what happened tonight. That was a professional disagreement that the Weiss were not meant to be involved in. If it's any reassurance, the men who attacked you are all dead."

"Oh, so rape and torture are business matters to you?" Yohji rasped out. Crawford's detached tone was pissing him off.

"If you want to irrationally vent your anger out you can save it until the morning. I'm sure Farfarello will be much more interested in hearing it than I am," Crawford snapped. He continued on from there just as businesslike as he had been before.

"Whatever Kritiker might believe, a well functioning Weiss unit is in both of our best interests, so you'll be recovering with us here for the next few days, owing to the fact that in some respects your injuries are our fault, but more specifically because we are better equipped to deal with them than your team. You've noticed that for the most part Schwarz is working towards the same goals as Kritiker from different directions and all I ask is that you extend this knowledge into a tentative trust in my team. We've covered for you with your employers and team, knowing that they won't be swayed to believe us anything less than cartoonishly evil. To all interested parties you are lost in Kritiker red tape for the next week."

"A week? You think I'll be over this in a week?" Yohji asked, dumbfounded. He wasn't sure he could walk and his body craved to go back to sleep. Heading back to work in a week was unfathomable.

"For the most part. You've only got a couple of minor fractures. Most of the pain was inflicted psychically. Schuldig will handle it later, in the meantime…" He shook a pill bottle. "The rest…doesn't really go away." Crawford's tone had lost its professional detachment and for a moment he looked sadly thoughtful.

"Where's Schu?" Yohji asked it against his better judgment. Just because he didn't think Schuldig was irredeemably evil didn't mean he thought the man a saint, but he'd still thought him above what he'd done. Though he doubted talking to Schuldig about it wouldn't make him feel better.

Crawford tipped out a few pills into his hand, businesslike once more. "Schuldig sends his sympathy and regret for what happened, but he really isn't up to talking at the moment. Here are the antibiotics and you have your choice of pain pills or sleeping pills."

"Pain pills," Yohji said automatically. He'd put off sleep as long as his broken body would let him.

* * *

><p>Brad closed the door to his bedroom as softly as possible, having taken note of Kudoh's headache, among his other pains. He hadn't said anything, but the way he'd responded to the light being shut off and how low he'd kept his voice were indications. He then walked down the hall to Schuldig's room and found the telepath hugging a pillow in a corner of his bed.<p>

"Schuldig, Kudoh's agreed to stay and accept our care."

"Whoop dee fucking do. Doesn't change what I did."

Brad sighed. This wasn't going to come out at all how he wanted it to sound, but he had to try. It would be so much easier if he could lie to his team. As it was, he spent so much of his life lying to people that he did value the relationships he had with Schuldig, Farfarello and Nagi all the more because of his honesty with them.

"Schuldig, it is somewhat your fault that Kudoh was attacked, but only because you didn't listen to my warning. From that point on it was really out of your hands. If you had stayed you would have been hurt with Kudoh and that would have made it all the more difficult for Schwarz to dispatch that team."

"I have my standards, my lines that I don't fucking cross. I don't…I'm not like that place. I was raised there but I am _not _Rosenkreuz. And I left someone else to go through that shit."

His shoulders were shaking with suppressed sobs. Another effect of Rosenkreuz trauma was the reluctance to cry, even when it was safe to do so. Brad was all too familiar with that himself. Despite his excellent memory, he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried. So unlike Nagi, who thought Schuldig's idiocy and horniness had endangered their plans needlessly and was understandably angry about it, Brad had sympathy for Schuldig. He sat down on the bed next to him and rubbed soothing circles on his back while he didn't cry.

* * *

><p>Throughout the night and into the next morning the only Schwarz Yohji saw was Crawford. At first the Oracle was obviously checking in on him, bringing glasses of water and medicine, giving him snatches of information and looking at his bandages, but when he started getting items for himself Yohji realized he was laying on the Oracle's bed. Considering his height measured against Berserker's, Mastermind's and Prodigy's he was probably wearing the Oracle's pajama pants too.<p>

He reflected that he probably should have been more angry about all this. He'd been attacked by _their_ enemies, not his, and all the decisions about his recovery had been made without his input or consent. But he really was too tired to care much, and the pain meds tended to make him groggy whenever his anger had a chance to sharpen. Besides, Crawford didn't make a bad nurse. He was quiet and conscientious, and polite to the point of absurdity considering who Yohji was.

It was certainly better than convalescing with the Weiss. Omi was by far the best nurse, but he was also least likely to be filling that role considering school and the bureaucratic Kritiker work he always had to do. That left Ken, who was worryingly flaky and a bit too clumsy for some of the finer tasks related to tending injuries, and Aya, who was cranky, lacking in all empathy, and thought pain meds were a sign of weakness.

The second night Yohji was feeling much better, although it looked like it would be awhile before he was back in action. Something was up with his right wrist so he was wearing a brace, and he couldn't walk unsupported due to a horrible wrenching pain in his knees. He'd graduated to sitting up in bed and was occasionally hobbling around the little room, but that was all. Pretty soon he was going to start smelling grody, and hoped his progress quickened so he'd have the dignity of showering alone.

When Crawford poked in to grab some supplies from his desk Yohji decided to engage him in conversation. He was bored, and when he was bored he was chatty.

"How's Schuldig doing?" He asked, for lack of a better subject.

"He's very shaken by what happened the other night. I don't think it's wise for the two of you to talk about it yet," Crawford answered brusquely. He gathered up a highlighter, some post its and a couple of books. "In the meantime we have a good supply of meds to ward off the psi-pain."

"What'cha doing?"

"Mission prep work."

"Oh. We usually use computers for our research," Yohji said.

"Yes well we tend to deal more with arcane occult subjects than you do and those are best accessed through out of print Latin texts," Crawford explained.

"Oh. Sounds like fun."

"Oh yes, I couldn't think of a better way to spend the next nine hours." Crawford punctuated his statement with a long suffering sigh.

"Anything I can do to help?" Yohji offered,

"You really are very bored, aren't you?" Crawford asked.

Yohji nodded. "You have one hundred eight ceiling tiles, twelve are cracked and that patch of six by nine at the left of the room is more yellowed than the rest. Could be water damage," He said by way of demonstration.

Crawford pulled a chair up to the bed and passed Yohji a packet of papers and a highlighter. "Highlight any paragraphs relevant to the base chakra."

"What?" He had no idea what he was reading. "This isn't Latin, is it?"  
>"No, I specifically picked an article in Japanese for you. The chakras are energy centers in the body that people meditate with. See?" He pointed to a diagram that showed different colored symbols superimposed over a seated human's spine, leading up to the forehead.<p>

"This doesn't have anything to do with the Kundalini thing Schrient is working on, does it?" Yohji asked.

"With Schrient's work? No. This is more advanced," Crawford said. He then opened his unpleasant looking book, a sour expression on his face as he scanned the pages with a highlighter hovering just above the text.

Yohji dutifully highlighted everything he found on the base chakra in the article, glad for something to do and glad it wasn't directly related to Schrient's fetish for stealing peoples' spines. When he finished Crawford had more for him to do, until eventually he drifted off with an uncapped highlighter still in hand.

He startled awake when Crawford started clearing away the papers that had accumulated around him. "Huh? I'm awake, I'm, I'm fine."

"You probably could use the rest you know." Crawford pointed out. He looked tired too. Yohji checked the guy's alarm clock and realized they'd been reading for four hours already.

"Man, how do you keep this up for this long?" He asked.

"Threat of painful death," Crawford answered. Yohji snorted, fully aware Crawford was only half-joking. "I do take breaks though. I was going to go get something to drink. Would you like some coffee or tea or anything?"

"Tea would be good. My throat's still pretty sore," Yohji said with a smile that felt unnatural, given his mood. The afternoon had passed pleasantly, but the shadow of avoidance hung over his actions. Crawford nodded, going with Yohji's actions and knowing that in a few hours things would be different.

While Crawford was out of the room Yohji hobbled over to his desk to take a closer look at it. He wasn't snooping, per se, he was just curious and needed the constant distraction from his thoughts. One quick perusal of the papers and books left on the desk left him convinced Schwarz was being lead by a genius. He'd spotted four different languages he could identify, two he couldn't and everything had plenty of highlights and notes in Crawford's tiny little scrawl. His notes were all in English, no matter what language he was reading for work.

One of the bookmarks in a French text on witchcraft that was bound in something disturbingly not-leather was a photograph. Yohji kept his thumb on the parchment-like paper so he could hold the picture up for a better look. It was of two boys, preteens or young teens at the oldest, one of which was smiling at the camera while the other was glowering at his feet. Only when Yohji noticed how familiar the smile was did he realize who the kids were, but once he did he found the young Schuldig and Farfarello unmistakable. It was weird to see the Berserker with two eyes, even though logic said he must have been born with the two and lost the one later in life.

Schuldig looked like a cute kid. He was hamming up his smile for the camera, dark blue eyes gleaming mischief although in a much more innocent looking way than his adult counterpart's. He wondered at how long the Schwarz had been working together for Crawford to have a picture of his teammates that was this old. And the fact that he'd held onto it was a sign of emotional attachment he certainly wouldn't have expected. At least not before he'd spent extended time in Crawford's. The man was downright pleasant when he wasn't in a Schwarz vs. Weiss battle.

He put the picture back and got back into bed before Crawford returned with the tea. When Crawford had initially come in to fetch research materials he'd been dressed as though for a business meeting. While in the kitchen he'd dispensed with the suit coat and tie and rolled up his shirt sleeves, which looked wrong somehow. He associated the Oracle, cocky leader of Schwarz, with a bad suit that was clean and crisp despite the clashing colors. Then again his mental associations for cocky leader of Schwarz didn't include childhood pictures of his team lying around on his desk. Or sheltering recuperating enemy assassins for that matter.

"I'm afraid I'm not great with brewing green tea and Nagi was too preoccupied to do it for me this time, so it's probably going to be bitter," Crawford said apologetically.

"Eh, that's fine. That's what sugar's for," Yohji said with a smile. He took a sip and tried not to wince, but Crawford noticed. "Wow…that's bitter."

"See, black tea doesn't do that. But when we're food shopping I always get outvoted," He said defensively.

"Well green tea tastes better. You know, when it's not bitter," Yohji stirred some sugar into his cup and trying to picture the Schwarz grocery shopping together. "So how much more reading do you have tonight?"

Crawford groaned, ever so quietly. "Enough to keep me busy for the rest of the night. I appreciate your help though. I may get to sleep tonight."

"About that…where have you been sleeping?" Yohji asked self consciously.

"I see you noticed we don't have a guest room," Crawford said with a smile. "Our couch is a futon. We guessed you'd want your privacy, and this gives Schuldig an opportunity to dodge you while he's still feeling sensitive over the whole matter. I don't think he's used to having a conscience," He explained.

"Well it's not…I mean it's not _just_ his fault," Yohji murmured, confused as to how he should feel. "But _I_ wouldn't have left him."

"There are a lot of things you would do differently than us," Crawford agreed, but there was an edge to his voice. "However you also could not have survived half of what Schuldig's gone through, so I think it best if you refrain from judging him."

"I wasn't-I mean okay I was but…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"Don't worry about it," Crawford said dismissively. "You have a right to your feelings, I'm just…it's not important."

'Worried about Schuldig,' Yohji realized. The Weiss had very much underestimated Schwarz's attachment to each other.

He drank his tea in silence and helped Crawford with a few more articles before his headache returned badly enough that he needed to take some medication. After that he wasn't able to retain much from what he was reading and had to admit defeat and sleep. Crawford thanked him again for his help and relocated to the living room.

* * *

><p>"You spent a lot of time in there." Nagi pointed out.<p>

"Kudoh's lonely. He's a social person and he'll be less bothersome if we indulge him," Brad answered without looking up from his reading. Besides that, Kudoh was also an excellent research assistant. He had a sharp mind that, even while coming down from pain meds was able to spot things others would have missed. In addition to highlighting things Brad had asked him to look for he'd occasionally added his own very helpful notes.

He was starting to hope for a vision where Kudoh wouldn't be missed among the Weiss.

"Whatever. Is there anything you need me to do tonight for the job?" Nagi asked, referring to the expected culmination of Brad's efforts.

"I need you to look into security, possibly find some blueprints to work with. It'd be nice if these idiots had human sized air vents for Farfarello to crawl around in too."

"I'll get on that then." Nagi nodded a goodbye and headed for his room. Brad turned back to his books, but his attention was wandering and the Latin wasn't nearly riveting enough to keep it.

He found himself wondering how Yohji was sleeping, if he'd woken up and might need anything. He was probably hungry, come to think of it, it had been hours since he'd eaten. He should poke in and see if he wanted something. Brad wasn't much of a cook, but he could order something in…

Or he could let the injured man sleep and do his damn job. He shook his head to clear it and tried once more to focus on the research. It really did take a vision of what Esset's punishment for failure would be to keep him on track.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for the feedback guys! Much appreciated and keep it coming. It's not really the writing style in this fic that's different for me (anyone who writes with Weiss gets good at the angst real quick-or at least, we all should...plenty of canon-fodder for that), it's the pairing... 0_o;; Feedback on the developing romance would be much appreciated (you know, once it starts to develop!) _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

The rest of Schwarz were in bed for the night and Brad was still in the living room, cramped up from sitting first in an uncomfortable chair by Kudoh's bedside and then on the futon for most of the day. He'd changed out of work clothes entirely and into a comfy pair of jeans and an old button down shirt, which was an improvement but not much of one.

The house was silent enough for Brad to audibly hear each annoyed breath that escaped him while he read and reread each sentence to make sure he'd gotten all important meaning from it (he'd skimmed a reading once, missed an important passage about planet alignment that was directly relevant to the necromancer they were supposed to be assassinating, and had always done a thorough job on the mission prepwork since). So when Yohji's sleep turned fitful he noticed immediately.

He knew it wasn't very compassionate, but Brad was pretty grateful for the distraction.

He opened the door to his bedroom to see Kudoh tossing and turning in his sleep. The movements were definitely much too frenzied for his bad wrist and knees to handle, and as wrist and knees would be very necessary for battling the Esset Elders in the museum in a couple months he darted forward and gently shook Yohji awake.

Yohji surprised Brad by clinging to him and burying face in his shoulder. He was breathing heavy, and was clammy with sweat. Brad held him, feeling an intense déjà vu that for once had nothing to do with his visions. He'd done this often enough for his teammates that the comforting words and gentle caresses, carefully given so as to be most reminiscent of a relative's touch, came almost automatically. The difference that reminded him it wasn't Schuldig or Nagi in his arms was that Yohji was crying.

"It's alright…we killed them and you're okay," Brad whispered. "You're stronger than they are anyway, and you're still here."

"I don't want to be, I want it to stop," Yohji's voice broke on his plea.

"It's harder now, so close to when it happened and because it's night, but it will get easier eventually."

Yohji stilled as his breathing slowly came under control. Brad continued to hold him, remembering what Schuldig had said about Yohji being a sensory-oriented person. Despite being raped he'd still find some comfort in being touched as long as it was handled right, and Brad was certainly controlled enough to respect boundaries.

Of course the last time he'd cradled a rape victim in his arms and attempted to comfort them they'd been much younger than him and behaving responsibly hadn't been in the least difficult. Yohji wasn't as much younger than him as he would have liked, so he was extra careful where he let his hands linger.

Finally, Yohji pulled away and Brad felt a certain amount of relief. Yohji looked embarrassed, but then his face could just as easily have been red from crying. Brad offered him a tissue, which he accepted.

"Thank you," He muttered.

"Don't hesitate to ask for help," Brad responded. "I know this is hard to deal with."

"Do you?" It was clear from his tone exactly what Yohji was asking.

"Not from first hand experience," Brad explained. "But I've seen it happen to others close to me often enough." Hell it was a miracle he'd gone through as many years at Rosenkreuz as he had without experiencing rape firsthand. It was the inevitable outcome from stripping away personal power and dignity and encouraging power games among the terrified.

"And they've…they've gotten past it?" Yohji asked. There was a look of desperation in his eyes Brad didn't like. He felt a surge of protectiveness, and for a moment wished he could resurrect those six thugs just to kill them all over again.

He tamped all that down so he could answer. Yohji was much too perceptive for him to be having thoughts like that in front of him. It wouldn't do at all for any of those emotions to show on his face. He just needed to comfort him enough so that he could function in Weiss. For Schwarz's sake.

"For the most part. Every now and then it…comes up. But they're very good at handling themselves," Brad said carefully. He couldn't help thinking about Schuldig's uncontrolled panic the other night when faced with the situation he was most terrified of. "It doesn't seem to heal all the way though."

"It doesn't need to I just…I want it to mute. You know? Just a little. I feel…there's this gnawing fear, and it's so irrational. Just this certainty that it's going to happen again."

Brad was forcibly reminded of sitting with Schuldig in an alley outside the dorm building the telepaths slept in. Schuldig had expressed the same fear, given a lot more credence because they were both certain it would happen again. Brad had promised to be there for Schuldig again when it did. This time at least he didn't have to make such a terrible promise.

Brad took Yohji's trembling hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze. The gesture seemed more helpful than words. Yohji closed his eyes, still obviously upset but a little calmer for Brad's actions.

"I'm totally screwing up your work, aren't I?" Yohji asked.

"Hm? Oh, that. A little, I suppose, but I can catch up later. You don't look like you want to be alone," Brad said, diplomatically deciding to leave out the bit about how much he'd wanted the distraction.

Yohji shook his head. "I don't. But…well I don't want you to be painfully executed over paperwork either."

Brad smiled at the joke. It was a good sign. "It's fine. I was almost done anyway." It wasn't an outright lie, more a matter of perspective. He really was almost done considering how much he'd worked already.

Yohji probably understood that, but he didn't protest when Brad offered to stay with him until he was asleep again. Brad went to get the chair he'd used earlier when Yohji stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"If you…wanted to stretch out, I mean you've been sitting all day and you're probably cramped up, well it's just that I wouldn't mind…" He rambled.

Brad patiently waited for the rambling to stop. "So you like hugs, huh?"

"Everyone likes hugs. People who don't are lying," Yohji bantered back, when he realized there was no judgment forthcoming.

Brad let out an exaggerated sigh as he settled himself in bed next to Yohji, who very cautiously snuggled against him. The unreality of the moment struck Yohji hard. Here he was, grown man and assassin with his head on the chest of possibly his most intimidating professional rival. But there was a certain amount of niceness to it, and when Brad thought Yohji was asleep he started stroking his hair, which only added to the niceness.

* * *

><p>Brad was slow to wake, but his sleepy mind reasoned that if it were pressing to be awake his alarm clock would have gone off. He drifted between wakefulness and sleep a few times before he realized the comfortable warm weight on his chest was an odd thing.<p>

Shit. He was going to be hard pressed to get all the pre-mission prep work done now. It was almost noon already. Although he wasn't as bothered as he should have been. Kudoh looked remarkably peaceful, which meant he'd slept well after the initial night terrors. Brad felt proud of that.

Even banged up as he was, Kudoh was beautiful. Brad couldn't help but notice now that he could sleepily study Yohji at his leisure, without threat of rudeness or a fully functioning rational mind to stop him. It's not that he hadn't noticed before; all of the Weiss were good looking and all of the Schwarz were well aware of it. Schuldig and Farfarello sometimes called them the Pretty Kitties, and had had an extended conversation about them once while very bored on a stakeout. Abyssinian had been labeled the best looking, but Siberian had gotten points for being the most approachable. Bombay was obviously the cutest, and Balinese had ranked runner up to Abyssinian, having lost points for skankiness. Brad now re-evaluated their decisions. Kudoh was stunning.

'He's Schuldig's age', that stupid rational inner voice of his reminded him. He'd met Schuldig when the boy was younger than Nagi, while Brad had been a young adult at the time. Of course the six year age difference wasn't jarring anymore, it only felt that way with Schuldig because they'd developed a bond with a big brother/little brother sort of feel to it, a result of their ages when they'd met.

But Schuldig and Yohji slept together, frequently enough for these thoughts to be troublesome. He hardly wanted to be plagued with feelings of longing towards Schuldig's fuck buddy.

Yohji stirred as he woke, and when the man's enthralling green eyes were fixed on him, sleepy and half lidded, he momentarily forgot his protests and just noticed again that Kudoh was a very beautiful looking man.

"You're a good pillow Oracle," Yohji murmured. "Do you usually sleep with your glasses on?"

"Of course not. You were sleeping pretty peacefully, I didn't want to bother you," He said. He expected Yohji to get up now that they were both awake, but contrary to expectation, Yohji wrapped his arms more securely around Brad's abdomen, as best he could with the bad wrist anyway, and snuggled against his chest. He looked content.

Brad was too surprised and unnervingly content himself to protest right away.

_Well isn't that just cute?_ Schuldig's mental voice chimed in. Brad took the bait.

_Isn't what cute?_

_Balinese's thoughts right now. I'd be angry about you moving in on my man if I hadn't screwed that up myself,_ Schuldig teased.

_What's he thinking?_ Brad asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He decidedly did not want to be involved in one of Schuldig's stupid games. But he _was_ curious.

_He's got a little crush on you and it's adorable in only the way a sentimental idiot like Kudoh Yohji can be. You know if you like him you should just go for it. Just make sure you use protection, whatever else he tries to say-_

_Schuldig, I'm not going to seduce a rape victim,_ Brad snapped, offended.

_Intentionally, apparently,_ Schuldig corrected. _He's already pretty into you. Keep petting his hair, he likes that._

_Get out of our heads._

_You kids want some privacy? _Schuldig asked with a snicker. _Me and Nags'll finish up the paperwork so you can keep cuddling._

_Schuldig-_

_I'm done, I'm done._

Yohji was grinning at him. "What?" Brad asked.

"You were pretty spaced there for a sec. I guess that must be a psychic thing though, the constantly zoning out."

"Oh, that wasn't a vision, that was Schuldig being a pest. The vision's don't take nearly as long, otherwise I'd be pretty useless in combat, don't you think?"

"Hm." Yohji slowly uncurled himself from Brad and stretched out beside him. "They must be disorienting then."

"They can be, but I'm trained for it. I...huh." Brad stopped speaking, as he was hit by a particularly vivid vision. Curious, Yohji leaned in closer to watch as Brad stilled, his pupils contracting ever so slightly. Just as he'd said, the vision didn't take that long, maybe two or three seconds, but it was followed by a reaction. Brad's face reddened and he edged away a little bit.

"Was that a vision?" Yohji asked, even though he seemed pretty sure it was. "What'd you see?"

"Nothing important," Brad lied. He sat up, removed his glasses, and started rubbing at his eyes, which incidentally gave him an excuse _not_ to look at the sensuous young man beside him in bed.

Yohji's face was alight with interest. That enthusiastic curiosity, which had made him a good research assistant, must have done wonders for his pre-Weiss work as a detective. "So you must not get visions too often when you're talking to people, because if you always go red like that I'd think people would notice."

"I don't always go red like-"

"So what was the vision?" Yohji asked.

It had been of Yohji, naked and dripping wet, with Brad equally naked and wet licking droplets of water off of too-pale honeyed skin. They'd been on the same bed, with the same sheets, and Yohji had still looked weakened, meaning it was slated for the near future. If Brad had to guess further, he'd say it was shower sex spilling out to the bedroom.

"I Saw Schuldig and Farfarello's plans for some free time they're supposed to have soon. It involved a sugar rush, a theme park, and some terrified civilians." Which wasn't a total lie. He'd had that vision yesterday, and it had prompted a spit take.

Yohji laughed. "I take it you're revoking Schu and Farfarello's priviledges?"

"I'm going to urge them to change their plans to something more prudent...and less conspicuous. I should..." Leave. Leave the small, darkened room with the enticing cuddle-slut smiling at him like that. "I should get to work. Do you need anything Kudoh?"

Yohji sighed. "I guess not. I'll just spend another boring day of recovery while you're out. Unfortunately, it won't be as creative as terrified civilians in a theme park."

Brad nodded, then fled the room.

* * *

><p>Schuldig felt like he was being a pretty good teammate. That damn conscience he'd suppressed for all those years had been awakened the other night, and it had been given a lot of nagging energy thanks to all that guilt. He owed Yohji. So freeing up Brad's morning so they could cuddle was not only him being an uncharacteristically good teammate, but also chipping away at that defecit of shame regarding Yohji.<p>

He got himself up and about before noon, which was highly uncharacteristic and not at all agreeable, took Nagi out for coffee (repelantly social and put the kid in a good mood-so never doing that again), and the two of them tackled the rest of Brad's reading. When he got home with detailed notes in hand, he was expecting to spend the couple hours before the mission parked in front of the TV in the living room with something sugary.

This wasn't to be, however, as there was a dust free rectangle of clean brown wood where the TV normally sat on their wall unit. Schuldig gaped at the lack of TV for a few minutes more, while Nagi carefully edged around him and started for his bedroom. "We-we've been robbed!"

"We haven't been robbed," Nagi snapped. He floated his laptop over to Schuldig and tugged some DVDs he knew Schuldig liked off of the shelf. "I think it's much more likely Brad moved the TV into his room out of consideration for our convalescing 'enemy'."

Scowling, Schuldig pushed past the offered laptop and stormed into the kitchen to confront his leader.

And caught sight of an adorably confused Bradley Crawford squinting at a cookbook while stirring a pot. He went back into the living room with a hand over his mouth, badly concealing his mirth.

"What?" Nagi asked.

"This would be sickening if it wasn't so pathetically funny," Schuldig said with a grin. "Yohji's not the only one with a crush."

Nagi quirked an eyebrow. "Not really..."

"Dude, he's trying to cook for him! Do you remember the last time Brad tried to cook?"

"Sure. It was when Farf was having a really bad episode, I had the flu, and you smashed your hand on a job. He still made me do most of the work with my telekinesis anyway. It was a pretty memorable disaster. I don't think he's doing Kudoh any favors."

Schuldig grabbed the laptop, which was still floating in front of him with the DVD cases dancing around it expectantly. He sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him. Nagi obediently sat down, and telekinetically fetched some snacks from the kitchen for them.

"So you're okay with this? I thought you liked Kudoh," Nagi said, confused.

"Eh, I like sex with Yohji. Brad likes _Yohji_. It's different."

Nagi accepted the answer, though he thought Schuldig was making too much of the distinction.

* * *

><p><em>The building gave out, sending the assassins crashing to the ocean in the midst of their battle. Then the dark water swallowed them. Even if his glasses had stayed on during all the confused motion, Brad wouldn't have been able to see much, not at night, not in the inky water. He kicked for the surface, knowing that as long as he stayed by his team, Nagi would get them where they needed to go, and they'd be okay...<em>

_There were strands of gold by his fingers. Yohji's hair...he was sinking, too far for Nagi's telekinesis to get to him. Brad reached out for him..._

"Hello? You still with us Fearless Leader?" Schuldig asked, snapping his fingers in front of Brad's eyes a few times.

Brad caught Schuldig's wrist in his hand and glared at him, now firmly grounded in the present. "I couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds. There's no need to be rude."

"We've got a mission in progress," Schuldig countered.

"A mission that's mostly done Mastermind. Quit being a pest," Nagi snapped. He was sitting at a desk in the labratory, having fun with the computers while Farfarello savored the last of the kills next lab over. Brad gave his head another shake, then went to stand behind Nagi's chair.

"This job does have applications for Schrient's Kundalini research. I hadn't thought they'd be aware of it, but I just learned otherwise. After you're done gutting the computers, why don't you leave them a little message?" Brad suggested.

Nagi sighed. "You know I am trying to date one of the Schrient, right?"

"Don't worry Naggles, you'll learn what self-esteem is one of these days, and then you'll notice that you can do better," Schuldig said patronizingly, with a reassuring pat on Nagi's back.

Nagi left all the monitors with the blue screen of death and got up. "They'll be irritated enough with how thoroughly dead everything is. I don't think we need to be cruel on top of it."

"No one ever _needs_ to be cruel, it's just fun," Schuldig said. Brad tossed him a marker and he wrote 'Schwarz wuz here, sukkit bitches' over all the monitors. Scowling, Nagi went to find Farfarello.

* * *

><p>Brad stopped the car in front of a bus station, and then turned in his seat to face his teammates as best he could. "We have three days before the next mission. As long as you stay out of the news," And here he turned a special glare on Schuldig, then Farfarello, "You may spend your downtime however you see fit."<p>

"No churches, monastaries, temples, seminaries, shrines, and now theme parks. He has conspired with the Oracle's unholy visions to ruin all our fun Guilty One," Farfarello murmured. Schuldig nodded his agreement.

"I know Brad. It's not really downtime with all these restrictions."

"Do you want to have a successful mutiny in the Spring or don't you?" Brad snapped. Schuldig rolled his eyes. "Then behave. Keep in mind too, Esset and Rosenkreuz still haven't mended fences. I haven't Seen any further trouble yet, but that doesn't mean there won't be. Keep your guards up and stay in communication."

"Got it." Schuldig scooted out of the car, Farfarello following after him. "Three days. Where d'ya wanna go this time?"

"I've heard nice things about Kyoto."

Nagi climbed into the front passenger seat, and watched his teammates leave with some apprehension. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"If Schuldig and Farfarello don't get some room to breathe between missions they're going to get someone we need killed, if not each other. Plus I think Schuldig wants to engage in his favorite form of avoidance and escapism for awhile."

"Did he dissolve that psychic attack Kudoh was hit with yet?" Nagi pressed.

"Oops," Brad said, not seeming too troubled by his 'oversight'. "I guess Kudoh's just going to have to stay longer than we'd planned. We've got plenty of pain meds. It shouldn't be a problem."

Nagi rolled his eyes. "And _I'm_ the teenager."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing this story for me. I've been given a lot to think about as I develop the story. Just wanted to take some space to acknowledge specific things brought up in the reviews, and then on with the show :)_

_Hugin: I'm glad you're liking the story so far. Your enthusiasm is encouraging. As far as the quick updates go (and this applies to a few different reviewers)...that's kind of accidental. I had a pretty hefty draft of this started forever ago, so I just kind of posted what I had as I edited it. Now I'm into new territory, so the updates are going to be a little slower in coming (but hopefully still steady)._

_Axya: I'm being careful not to overdo it with the angst (I know, I know, it's a staple of the fanon, but I have a hard time writing too much of it). As you'll see in this new chapter, Yohji's not quite done breaking down, but every time he does so, something relevant has to happen. I don't want to show the same scene over and over again. That wouldn't be fun for anyone. Glad you're liking the details and thank you muchly for your comments._

_Not Registered Reader 13: Sorry, the plan for this fic is to make it Crawford/Yohji. I'm normally a Schu/Yohji shipper (so check out my other fanfics if that's your cup of tea-the Malarkies fics are Schu/Yohji and my more serious arc is building to that), and this fic is a break. I think experimenting with different couples keeps my approach to characterizations fresh. That being said, I do want to put Schuldig in a relationship, but right now I'm struggling to pick someone out for him. Any thoughts...? And yeah, I know my characterization of Brad is a little cuddly. I see Schwarz as a substitute family unit. For some reason, I've gone with the idea that they've been working with each other in some way or form longer than the Weiss have (except Nagi, who's a little aloof and bitchy from the rest of them). Therefore, Brad's something like the big brother who has to take care of the rest of them, and he comes across a bit more nurturing in my fics than he normally does. I don't think it's really AGAINST canon, even if it's not the way most of us see him._

_Vera-Sama: Glad to see you along for the ride again. Your reviews always make me happy :)_

_And hopefully I answered everyone who signed in with a review reply. If I didn't, feel free to give me hell._

**Chapter Four:**

Nagi was moody for the rest of the ride. Which is not to say that the teen wasn't usually quiet and a bit brooding, but there were degrees to these things. Brad suspected himself the target of teenage scorn.

"You know, the three days of downtime applies to you too. You don't have to stay at the house."

"Aren't you going to need me when Schuldig and Farfarello do something careless and make themselves targets for more Rosenkreuz attacks?" Nagi returned.

Brad scowled. So it was _that_ then. "Nothing's going to happen. I would have Seen it, I assure you."

"You didn't See it the other night when Kudoh was attacked in the first place."

"I saw a variant on the attack, and if Schuldig had listened to me it wouldn't have happened at all. I think I've done a pretty good job keeping everyone safe all these years you know." Especially considering what a challenge the three of them made it. Nagi didn't engage in as much pointlessly risky behavior as the madman or the pseudo-nihilist, but he was a depressed, angsty teen prone to masochistic fits. Brad thought the fact that the four of them were alive and reasonably stable was an accomplishment.

Of course, Nagi tended to see how much better the situation could be.

Farfarello, for one, was capable of much more than his circumstances allowed. If he were allowed treatment and medication he'd probably be as sane as any of them. As it was, Esset thought he was more useful in a state of madness, and so he bore his shattered mind, while the rest of them hoped that after their mutiny there would be enough of him left to treat.

Schuldig acted out so much because he was fundamentally unhappy. He'd been the youngest telepath to emerge from Rosenkreuz training with his sanity in tact, but that distinction had come with a price. He was emotionally stunted, and the young man acted more like a fitful toddler in certain respects. It was hard to get him to focus on a goal if he didn't see any immediate benefit for himself, he was prone to boredom and thus to seeking out amusement, and he threw his tantrums.

Basically they all needed a lot of therapy, but clearly that wasn't an option. Maybe someday down the line, after the mutiny and once they'd secured their freedom. Maybe then Farfarello could get his stability and resolve his religious issues, and Schuldig could learn some empathy, Nagi could get over his depression (though that might clear itself up at the end of puberty) and Brad...

'Control issues, paranoia, superiority complex...yeah, I've got a few issues of my own to work on too.' Still though. He'd lived through fourteen years of enslavement and doing things that, when he'd been a withdrawn and somewhat sensitive teenager, had seemed abhorrent to him. Two more months and he'd finally have his life back from Esset.

"I'll be in my room for most of the night," Nagi said, once they'd gotten back to the house. "So if you need me-"

"Nagi, why are you so sure something's going to go wrong?" Brad snapped, getting annoyed.

Nagi eyed him quizzically. "Past experience. Doesn't it always go wrong somehow?"

Not always, but usually. Brad ceded him the point. And when he caught a quick vision that had come at entirely the wrong time to be useful, he kept it to himself. He waited until Nagi was brooding behind his locked bedroom door before running for his own room.

Yohji was curled up in a corner of the darkened bedroom hugging his knees to his chest with his head down. He had a razor clutched in one hand, and his bare arms and legs were littered with shallow scratches and deeper gouges. There was a lot of blood, enough to initially startle Brad, but then he had some experience with these sorts of situations, and a quick look told him that the self-inflicted injuries weren't as bad as they looked.

"Yohji?" Brad gently touched a trembling shoulder. Yohji gasped, but otherwise didn't move. Slowly, Brad moved his hand lightly down Yohji's arm, putting very little pressure into the touch, so that Yohji could shift away if he wanted to. When he got to the hand that was closed around (and thusly into) the razor, Brad gently pried it open, extracted the blade from Yohji's skin and then tossed it across the room.

Stupid! He should have expected this even without a vision and cleared the bathrooms at least of the razors (thanks to Farfarello, they were pretty good at hiding edged surfaces). Too late for that now, focus on the present.

Brad lifted Yohji into his arms and carried him into the master bathroom, where he'd blatantly been when he'd started cutting himself. The shower was still on, the curtain was half off its rings, and there were some toiletries laid out on top of a towel by the sink. Brad set Yohji down in front of the tub, turned the shower off and yanked the dangling shower curtain out of the way, then fetched the first aid kit and wordlessly began cleaning the cuts.

Yohji offered no resistance whatsoever. When Brad raised his arm to dab at a cut on his elbow, it was like moving a rag doll. Yohji's large green eyes were looking straight ahead, focusing on nothing. He'd checked out.

Brad bandaged the cuts that needed it, applied a few clear adhesive strips, and then helped him into pajamas and tucked him into bed.

Nagi was coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of fruit and a can of iced green tea when Brad left the bedroom. He stared at his teamleader with a petulant expression that was almost a gloat on his face.

"What?" Brad snapped. Nagi did not have those types of powers. He did _not_ know.

"You've got blood on your shirt Brad. Kudoh's, I assume? Still convinced everything's fine?"

Brad stormed into the kitchen without answering.

* * *

><p>"We've been closed for ten minutes now. Will you just leave?" Ken whined. The fangirls responded with the expected giggles and comments about how cute he looked when he was desperately unhappy like that. Ken leaned his head on his hands, which were clutched around a broom handle, and reminded himself that Kritiker probably frowned upon their agents attacking civilians with a broom, no matter the exact circumstances.<p>

Then Aya walked in from the storage room and trained a glare that usually only dark beasts saw on the school girls. "Leave or there will be consequences."

"Ooo...Aya's being scary!" One of the girls trilled.

Then he sprayed her with a hose.

"Aya! Hey, you can't-they're customers!" Ken yelled, when he meant civilians.

"Leave!" Aya yelled, and the girls did.

"Come on, this place is no fun anymore. When's Yohji-kun getting back from vacation anyway?" One of the girls threw over her shoulder. Aya slammed the door in her face and locked it in a gesture of finality.

Against his better judgment, Ken hesitantly patted Aya's shoulder, since he'd been standing in front of the locked door for a worrying amount of time. "Hey, don't worry Aya. I'm sure Yohji's fine. Omi said Kritiker would have tried to replace him by now if he'd died."

"Then why can't we find him?" Aya snapped.

Ken chewed his lip. They'd been trying to answer that one since Yohji had gone missing.

They finished closing up the Koneko in a tense silence, then went down to the mission room where Omi was perched in front of the computer. There were crushed cans of Amp and Red Bull around his feet, and three dirty coffee cups on the table around him. He had shadows under his eyes and one of his legs was shaking in what appeared to be an involuntary manner, but he still smiled and cheerfully greeted them when they walked in. Ken smiled and nodded, while Aya glared and ever so slightly inclined his head.

"Find anything yet?" Aya asked.

"N-no, nothing conclusive yet," Omi faltered. "It's starting to look like Kritiker doesn't even know where Yohji-kun is. I've found a few conflicting memos and some restricted documents that all...well they all kind of act like someone else has the intel we want, and it's going in a big crazy circle. But I got an idea."

"What's the idea?" Ken pressed.

"A couple years ago one of the Crashers was sent on a secret mission. They didn't tell the rest of the team, or even most of the Kritiker agents. Maybe Yohji's doing something like that. At which point he's not dead! See? It-it works. And I can go to sleep and not even have to feel guilty."

Come to think of it, the kid did look strained. "Yeah Omi...I think that's...that's probably right," Ken said uneasily. Aya was about to say something (something crushing, no doubt), but Ken stepped on his foot. "Grab some rest. Me and Aya will see if we can confirm your theory."

"Oh good. I think I've got a worrying amount of gurana in my system, so I might not be able to sleep. I'll try though! Good night Ken-kun, Aya-kun."

Once Omi was upstairs Aya turned his expectant glare on Ken. Ken sighed. "Look, d'ya think Omi was actually being useful if he'd jumped to conspiracy theories? I think he needs the sleep."

"We don't have the training to hack Kritiker's files. Omi barely has the skill for it."

"True, but don't you think if there was something to find, he'd have done it by now?" Ken pressed. "Omi's the best there is at this shit. I don't think Kritiker knows where Yohji is either."

Privately, Aya agreed, though he hadn't wanted to admit it. Because if Kritiker didn't have the answer, where else could they look?

Scowling, Aya trudged upstairs to his room. Ken followed after him in some confusion.

"Aya, you okay? D'ya wanna...talk?"

Aya fixed him with a glare that plainly read 'you know better than that'.

"Kay, well I had to try. Wait, where are you going?" Ken asked, since Aya had grabbed a coat and his keys.

"If Kritiker doesn't know, then I'll have to find out another way. The last time any of us saw Yohji he was on his way out to 'relax'. To him that means getting smashed and finding a hookup."

"So what, you're just going to go to a bar at random and hope someone remembers Yohji?" Ken demanded.

"Do you have a better idea?"

"I'll...get my coat."

* * *

><p>When Yohji woke up again it was nighttime. He was alone, which was good because he didn't want to face anyone, even the bizarrely well-intentioned Schwarz. He hugged a pillow to his face and focused on his breathing until the urge to hyperventilate subsided, and then carefully sat up, wincing at all the new little stings, and looked around.<p>

The room wasn't completely dark, being dimly lit by a jar candle on the desk. There was a glass of ice water next to it, and a bowl of soup that was still hot. Yohji drank the water and devoured the soup, then got back in bed and waited.

Less than a minute later, Brad opened the door and cleared away the dishes. He came back and sat on the end of the bed.

"Glad you figured I could be trusted with a candle," Yohji said.

"I've been following you more closely with my visions since the episode. The desire to hurt yourself seems to have passed. Besides, I'm not sure how much harm you could have done with a jar candle."

"I could have singed my finger tips. Or lit the room on fire and really had some fun."

"Yohji...if you feel that way again, please tell me. I can help you."

There was something mesmerizing about the concerned amber eyes, and Yohji's mouth fell open to consent to Brad' request before he'd given it much thought. He shook himself, and opted to tell the truth instead. For whatever reason, the few days he'd spent in the quiet, somber man's company had endeared Brad to Yohji, and he wanted to be as open with him as he was able while still being an 'enemy'.

"I'm kinda feeling that way pretty constantly. You know, unless I distract myself. Those guys that...that attacked me, the, um...the mind games sucked. I know I'm not healthy...that the Weiss-that we aren't, any of us, but, well...I'd been better than I was. I stopped drinking myself into a stupor and I was kinda enjoying life again and...you know, letting people in, friendships. Whatever they did to my head, it's like all the worst stuff in my life happened an hour ago-like she..." Like Asuka had been shot down twenty minutes ago. "I...I don't think I'm strong enough to heal it all back up from the beginning."

Brad took a deep breath. "Alright. I'd thought most of the damage was physical. Even the psychic aspects of the attack, I'd figured they'd just played with your perception of pain. I didn't realize the attack was so intimate. I know it doesn't feel like it, but this is still an injury with a treatment. You'll be fine. Just give me some time to get this fixed."

Yohji nodded, trusting Brad and marvelling at the depth of that trust. They joked sometimes about how Ken was a bit too trusting and optimistic about people to be an assassin, that you needed to be suspicious if you were going to survive. But Yohji had listened to his intuition when he'd been a PI, and it generally worked well for him. His intuition had always said the Schwarz weren't quite the villains they'd postured as, and experience was proving him right. Schuldig was a pain in the ass, but he wasn't evil (whatever he tried to say), and Brad Crawford was...complicated.

When he stood to leave, Yohji reached out and grabbed his arm. He sat back down on the bed and regarded Yohji with a patient and questioning gaze.

"Uh...I mean, if you've gotta go make arrangments or do leader things, that's cool but um...m'not really...I, uh..."

"Don't want to be alone?" Brad asked.

"Yeah. Do you have anymore paperwork you need help with or anything?"

"Thankfully no. Snacks and a movie?"

"Sounds good."


End file.
